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He'd bring them in to find Daisy if he had to, but they were a last resort. Most likely, they’d toss his ass in jail, making it impossible for him to find her.
As he started the car, his phone rang. It was Cutter, the president of the Houston chapter of his club and the one he’d be visiting as soon as he wrapped up things here. Fuck, he didn’t have time for this, but ignoring a president’s call was plain stupid. “Hey, brother,” he said as he answered.
“You okay? You sound off.” Cutter was the most perceptive damn man Moose knew.
“Ran into trouble here in Georgia.”
He could hear Cutter’s frown through the phone. “What kinda trouble?”
“My woman’s brother has been fucking things up for her. We tried to help him sort his shit out, but he flipped. Took her against her will and shot at me. I’m trying to find her.”
“Jesus, Moose! You hit?”
“Grazed, my temple. I’m a bloody mess but okay.”
Cutter growled. “Shoulda called me immediately, but you’re too damn stubborn to ask for help.”
Moose chuckled despite his throbbing head. “You’re too far to do anything, brother. But I appreciate the offer of help.”
“I might be far, but I’ve got contacts all over the damn country. I got two cousins who live near where you are. They’re not in a club, but they’re loyal to family and some crazy motherfuckers. If anyone can help you get your girl back, it’s them. Text me the address of your motel, and I’ll have them there in under thirty minutes.”
Well, shit. Cutter was right. He would never have asked, too used to handling life on his own. But with the offer out there, he’d take all the help he could get. “Thanks, man.”
An amused grunt came through the phone. “You’re a nomad, but you’re still part of the club, Moose. Don’t forget that. You come running whenever we need you, but you never expect us to do the same.”
“Yeah, I’m…”
A loner? A man with no faith in humanity? Used to being disappointed?
“A grumpy, stubborn fucker?” Cutter supplied.
“Yeah, that,” Moose said, chuckling. “Thanks, brother. I owe you one.”
“Please, this doesn’t come close to paying the debt on what we owe you. Let me call my cousins.”
“Okay. Talk soon.”
“Wait, Moose?”
“Yeah?”
“When you get your ol’ lady back, I expect you to bring her out with you. I wanna meet the woman who captured the lone wolf. She must be pretty damn special.”
“She is,” Moose whispered, but Cutter had already disconnected the call.
He sat in his car and stared out the windshield. Where the fuck was Daisy? He wanted her back and by his side so badly his chest ached. If she had so much as a bump or a bruise when they found her, Moose would rain holy hell down on Ricky.
Why had he called her his woman? Why hadn’t he corrected Cutter when the prez called Daisy his ol’ lady?
Because you want her to be.
Did he? Was it total insanity to change his entire lifestyle after knowing a woman for one day? Crazy, maybe, but that didn’t make it wrong. That didn’t mean Daisy wasn’t the woman for him. They could travel the country together, exploring, sharing adventures, and visit every chapter of his club. But maybe they could keep a home as well. Keep her house as a sanctuary to return to when they needed to reset and recharge.
For the first time in his life, the idea of setting down roots didn’t sicken him.
If Daisy were with him, it sounded kind of wonderful.
But first, he had to find where the fuck Ricky had taken his woman.
He drove to the motel, forcing himself to remain calm and drive close to the speed limit. Getting pulled over when he had a gallon of blood running from his head would be a disaster. The steering wheel squeaked under the force of his grip. He’d tear the damn thing in half if he didn’t relax.
After parking in front of his motel room door, he had to wait in the car until a young couple entered their room. They’d flip if they saw him.
Fifteen minutes later, he was clean, had bandaged his wound, and was wearing a hole in the thin carpet as he waited for Cutter’s cousins to arrive.
“Thank fuck,” he muttered when a knock came a few minutes later.
He yanked the door open and admitted two men with Cutter’s same sandy blond hair and whipcord build. They were twins, identical in all but their hair. One had a military buzz cut while the other wore his longer and in a man bun. Both were dressed in dark pants and long-sleeved tops, carrying rifles, and appeared ready for war.
Exactly what he needed.
“You Moose?” The short-haired man asked.
“That’s me. Come on in.”
“Thanks, man. I’m Darius, and this is Oscar,” he said, jerking a thumb at his longer-haired brother. Cutter said you need help getting your woman back from a first-rate asshole.”
